Our Firsts
by ThisVioletofMine
Summary: 'Kirk knew from the moment he saw her that he was in love.' James T. Kirk is quite proud of being a ladies' man. Then he meets Spok: the perfect Vulcan woman who is unlike any he's ever seen before. He's instantly in love, and hopes desperately that she feels the same. Fem!Spock x Kirk
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys, I'm back!**

 **Okay, so, I totally loved the newest Star Trek movies with Chris Pine and Zachary Quinto! I saw those, I thought of this, and I just HAD to contribute!**

 **I must tell you, though, that I did not watch the old TV show or movies, and most of what I know about Vulcans (Spock is my favorite character, BTW) is what I learned from the two aforementioned movies and from several fanfics. So I will make a few things up, I will get many things wrong, but we'll officially dub this an AU so that I don't get murdered.**

 **Also, this is my first attempt at romance, so please don't hate if it sucks.**

 **And yes, I know the title is totally lame, but bear with me.**

 **Anywho, please enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek or any of its characters**

Kirk knew from the moment he saw her that he was in love.

When she gazed on him with those large brown eyes, he melted. Every single time. When she tucked her short hair behind her adorable ears, his heart skipped a beat. When she raised an eyebrow at him questioningly, with those naïve misunderstandings, he fell even more deeply under her spell.

They were such close friends- had been for several years- and yet Spok still hadn't figured out the reasoning behind his remarkably uncharacteristic behavior. He wished so badly that they could continue being normal, that she would figure it out on her own, then she could tell _him_ that she felt the same way, and then he would never have to risk being shot down by directly telling her.

But then he would remember her upbringing; emotionlessness and being surrounded in it at all times. And his battered heart would sink. Why did she have to be so unreachable, especially since she was the only one who had ever made him feel this way?

Then he would remember that she had, in fact, been exposed to emotion, considering her human mother. Surely some of it had rubbed off onto her? Surely it was in her genetics?

And finally he would recall all of those times when she was so hopelessly lost during any emotional situations, and he could picture it clearly in his mind's eye: her eyes wider than usual, her lips twitching downward ever so slightly, her ears faintly shaded green with embarrassment as she stood there awkwardly, hands clasped primly behind her back. Every single time it happened- whether it be on a meet-up during shore leave, a party, or a diplomatic event- he wished he could stop whatever he was doing and run up to her, rescue her from this sea of uncertainty and uncharted territory.

But for some reason something in the back of his head would tell him that she wouldn't appreciate such an extravagant gesture.

So he started small, slowly placing his feelers, subtly testing the waters, searching desperately for any sign that she saw him as something _more_ than her cocky, sarcastic, annoying, hilarious best friend.

He put everything he had into the search.

(Line Break)

The first time he deliberately touched her, it was under the guise of a friendly shoulder pat between two colleagues as they celebrated the Romulan defeat. It was meant as a light touch, delicate and meaningless in the grand scheme of things. Yet it had meant so much to him regardless.

"Good work, First Officer." He had said with a smile, internally savoring the smell of her, the feel of her uniform under his palm. She had startled at the unexpected contact and jumped back, whipping to look at him, eyes widening only slightly as she realized it was just Jim. Her features were quickly schooled into indifference once more before she nodded in agreement, and that had basically been the full extent of the conversation.

Good Lord, how it burned in his heart, how passionately he felt for her, how much stronger his feelings became after the simple interaction. She was so unlike all the other girls he had hooked up with; she was educated, could hold her own, wasn't desperate to throw her body at him like all the prostitutes he used to think he loved so much. She was new, and charming, and he just _loved_ her so much, and he couldn't think of words to describe it. The only way one could accurately measure his affections for the Vulcan would be to look at his expression as his gaze lingered on her, which he admittedly did often when she wasn't aware. She was so beautiful, so amazing.

And for once, his love wasn't a heartless desire for a woman's body; he wasn't longing after a sexual encounter with Spok. His sole desires were to be her one and only, to hold her close and to see and be the recipient of her extremely rare smiles, to treat her like the goddess she really was. He wanted her to love him back.

(Line Break)

The first time he saw her smile, if only the teensiest bit, was six months after they defeated Khan, and four months after the start of their next five year exploration.

There had been some sort of party for a crewmember's birthday, and all had been present in the mess hall. Spok had worn a uniform blue shirt with slim black pants, and while it wasn't the dress she generally wore, it still looked equally stunning on her slender figure. She appeared uncomfortable, picking at one of her sleeves in slight agitation as the lights lowered slightly and loud music began to play. He could tell the noise was hurting her ears.

He had sidled up to her cautiously, reaching out and gently placing a hand on her sleeved arm.

"Come on, Spok, let's ditch this place." He said casually, leading her out into the quiet hallway. He could feel the relief radiating from her.

"Captain, is there something that requires my expertise?" She asked, minutely confused and doing a poor job of hiding it. He leaned against the far wall and shrugged, cherishing the undivided attention.

"Nah, just looked like you could use some fresh air. Also, we're off duty, so you can call me Jim, Spok." He replied, smiling. Her brow furrowed for the shortest of seconds, then it was gone.

"Alright, James." She said, and Jim is 99 per-friggin-cent sure that there was a mischievous lilt to her words. And that's when the smile just barely caressed her pale cheeks, managing to light up her eyes for just a split second, and then it's back to the monotonous flat mouth.

He saves the image in his mind and reviews it every day, because her small smile is enough to brighten his day instantly.

(Line Break)

The first time she calls him 'Jim', it's two weeks after the hallway scene, and he's already noticed how much friendlier towards him she's become.

"Jim, I-" She had stuttered out, speechless for the first time he'd ever witnessed, and he smirked at the little green blush seeping into her cheeks. "I wanted to thank you for what you did at the gathering that night. Your consideration of my discomfort in loud environments is appreciated." She concluded, nodding and walking away.

After that, it was much less professional between the two of them, their friendship taking leaps and bounds. Kirk was thrilled.

(Line Break)

Today, he was sitting exhaustedly in his 'big boy captain chair' and rubbing a hand over his forehead. Things were moving slowly today, so he gave the conn over to Sulu and went for a walk around the ship.

It was statistically near impossible that he happened to walk by that specific loading deck, of all the billions of places on the ship, at that specific moment. Honestly, it was quite the coincidence.

"-little bitch!" He heard just a snippet of the exclamation, but it was enough to stop Kirk in his tracks and make him tilt his head in concern. He backtracked until he stood by the large glass doors to Loading Deck C13.

He immediately felt his blood boil as he glimpsed the scene inside the large room.

There were two men standing there, one hunched over with his arms splayed out behind him as he shouted at the sole female occupant. Both men wore red shirts, both were unfamiliar to Kirk, and both had equal looks of hatred on their faces that he instantly disliked.

The female Jerk 1 was yelling at just so happened to be Spok, standing there with her arms crossed behind her back as she slowly turned to face away from them. By all means, she looked perfectly unaffected by the idiot's insults, but Kirk knew her well enough to spot the slight greenening of her ears, the slight glassiness reflected in her eyes, and the slight slouch of her shoulders as she refused to engage in verbal combat.

All Jim saw was red as he surged through the sliding doors, and wasted no time in storming up to Jerk 1 as he finished his taunt of, "-just a little green-blooded goblin!"

The fat man never saw the direct punch to the nose coming. In fact, he didn't see anything after that, because he immediately collapsed to the floor, unconscious. Jerk 2 jumped in surprise, cowering away from the captain and whining when he was lifted up by the collar of his uniform. Jim pulled the other man close, so close that he could smell the alcohol on the other's breath.

"What the hell do you think you were doing?" He demanded, shaking the redshirt for emphasis. The name on his tag identified him as Terence Ross.

Terence was completely shocked; his limbs were shaking as he scrambled to escape the furious captain's death grip.

"I-I, I mean, T-Tommy Boy was just- just teachin' the Robot a lesson!" He whimpered, clenching his eyes shut as a puff of hot air was angrily blown onto his face. Kirk could hear the slightest intake of breath from their Vulcan companion, and it was the closest thing to hurt that he'd ever heard from her. This increased his rage and he brought up a fist threateningly.

"You son of a bitch! She's a person too, you know! I ought to throw you out into the abyss for your inexcusable actions!" By now he was sure the other man was going to faint.

A reluctant, feather-light touch on his shoulder made him pause, and he turned to see Spok, his beloved friend, looking at him imploringly.

"Captain, please do not do anything you will later regret on my account." Her voice was strong, but underneath he could hear the shakiness, and he could feel the hurt she felt but tried desperately to hide and control. Nodding to her, he quickly brought up his fist again and punched Ross straight in the face, dropping his unconscious body to the floor in disgust.

Spok was looking at him with Vulcan surprise, and seemed too shocked to object when he hooked his arm through hers and led her quickly from the deck.

After almost five minutes of walking, though, she stopped short, waiting until he was facing her before she spoke.

"Captain, why did you do that?" Her eyes were penetrating deep into his soul. She looked so _lost_ , like she just couldn't understand. His heart softened, and he took a few steps closer to her. They were alone in this sector of the ship.

"Because those bastards had no right to say those things about you. You are just as important and just as human as they are; they're just too xenophobic to see it." He spoke with sincerity, his voice smooth and his eyes pleading her to see herself the way he saw her.

She took a deep breath through her nose, tucked a stray hair behind her pointed ear.

"But Captain, _why_ did you do that? _Why_ did you defend me so readily? I am an adult too, and I should have told them to stop. It was my fault that I walked into their work area while they were intoxicated. I asked you not to do something you would regret because of me, yet you did it anyway. Why?"

He sighed, moved a bit closer and placed a hand on her shoulder, gently rubbing his thumb along the base of her neck.

"Because, Spok," he said, working up his courage, "I care about you. And I don't regret doing what I did." She didn't swat his hand away, didn't ask him to remove it, just stared searchingly into his bright blue eyes with a question in her own.

" _Why_ do you not regret it? You also care about being the captain of this ship, but you have just risked losing that. _Why_ would you do that?" He almost laughed. She honestly didn't understand. Had no clue. It just made him love her even more; it made her sense of innocence seem stronger.

"Because, Spok, I don't care about that as much as I care about you." He brought his face closer to hers, their noses just inches apart. "I love you, Spok."

There it was. The truth was finally out in the open.

They stayed like that for some time, but Kirk didn't mind. He watched avidly as her emotions broke through her mental walls in her shock, watched as confusion, excitement, and hundreds of other feelings shone in her dark eyes. She stared straight up into his.

Finally, after an eternity, she spoke.

"Captain, I-" She stopped herself, pulling back just slightly and running her hands through her ebony locks. "Jim, you are a human male. A mammal. Every mammal's instinct is to find a mate, continue the bloodline. That is what you are doing; you are searching for a mate so that you may procreate and continue _your_ bloodline. While I am quite honored that you have considered me for this role in your life, I must tell you that you do not want to taint your offspring with my Vulcan blood." With this, she turned and ran back to her quarters.

Jim stood there, shocked. What should he have expected, though? She was a Vulcan, and she found comfort from logic and facts. Such emotional dumpage all at once must have been severely overwhelming for her.

Sighing dejectedly, Kirk returned to the bridge.

All he could do is give her space and hope that some day she might change her mind.

He would wait relentlessly for that day.

(Line Break)

It was a quick mission, one that should have borne more fruit than it had. But, it only being a few days full of awkward glances since his confession to Spok, Kirk was understandably distracted as he roamed the jungle surface of some random planet in search of life.

They had found it, but it hadn't been friendly, and all they got from the mission was a frustrated Scotty- 'Damn it, why aren't they beaming up?'- And a rather beaten and bloodied Captain James T. Kirk. When he and Bones finally beamed back up to the ship, he had been immediately rushed to the Med Bay where his broken arm, sliced forehead and bruised ribs could be taken care of properly. All the while, everyone was telling him how lucky he was, how they had thought he was dead for a full ten minutes before the communicators came to life and he was requesting being brought up.

A few minutes into the healing process, though, and the doors were sliding open to admit Kirk's favorite First Officer, skirt swishing and eyes scanning the room desperately. Moments later she located her target, and McCoy- who seemed to have a supernatural sense for these things- immediately turned away to 'check his scanner'.

"Hey, Spok." He started, trying to reassure the alien as she walked determinedly towards him, her mind set upon something. "It's alright, I'm fi-"

He was cut off as she launched herself at him, pressing his lips to her own and wrapping her arms around his neck.

And even though his injuries were giving him agony, the sweet taste of her lips and the sensation of her embracing him was enough to drive any thoughts of pain from his mind. He was quick to wrap his one good arm around her back.

She pulled away, panting just a bit and blushing madly.

"Apologies, I am very inexperienced in your displays of affection." She mumbled before becoming serious once more. "I thought you had died on the mission, Jim. And… And I thought about what I wouldn't have been able to… I thought about how I truly felt… And…" She trailed off, placing a kiss on his cheek. "I love you, James Kirk." She finished, the barest hint of a smile gracing her lips.

If it weren't for the constant aching in his ribs and the fact that Bones was there, Jim would have sworn that he had died and gone to Heaven.

 **Well, that's the end of the first part!**

 **Did you like?**

… **Grace is very bad at writing romance. And at understanding Star Trek.**

 **Did you like regardless? *I hope you did* :)**

 **Hopefully I'll add the next part soon, but with school ending next week and finals coming up, plus my having to turn in my school laptop, it may take me a bit longer to update, depending on my schedule. No promises, but thank you for your patience!**

 **I know 'greenening' isn't a word, but since Spock has green blood, and I couldn't say 'reddening', I made up a word. Yay me.**

 **Please leave a review, favorite, follow, whatever suits you!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you all for your support! I hope you continue to enjoy this story!**

 **I forgot to mention this last chapter, but the misspelling of Spock's name is intentional; I wanted to feminize it a bit, but putting T' at the beginning or adding –ette or –alina just seemed too annoying and in the latter cases, too cheesy. Sorry about the confusion.**

 **Also, I think this story will be in a 'firsts' format, as you'll see below, and as you saw in the previous chapter. Sometimes it will be, sometimes it won't, but bear with me; I'm experimenting with formats and styles.**

The first time Jim saw Spok cry- like, with _tears_ \- besides the time she witnessed his 'death' by radiation, was a few weeks after she kissed him in Medical.

During that time he had noticed her slight abandonment of traditional Vulcan customs; she no longer kept her hair short and shaved close to her scalp, and thanks to her body's advanced hair growth, now wore it comfortably tucked behind her ears, resting on her lower back. Her lips twitched more often; this in itself was greatly different from her usual stoic face, when she used to express only the smallest emotions with her eyebrows and nothing more. She became more vocal about her opinions on the best course of action- thank God, too, because without her demanding that he fly _away_ from the Androvian ship, they most certainly would have perished in battle.

Because of her slight changes to adjust to a life loving a human, Jim shouldn't have been completely surprised to find her full-out sobbing on her bed one evening, after her shift had ended. He still was.

He had simply dropped by to ask her to eat with him, but the anguished sounds coming from inside her quarters had him running in without permission, scanning the room avidly for his girlfriend.

She sat ramrod straight at his entrance, though the crumpled sheets of her always-immaculate bed showed that she had been lying facedown moments before. She faced the wall, and he couldn't see her face.

Her head cocked to the side, and she listened. He breathed as loudly as he could, knowing her advanced hearing could pick out his noises and easily identify him. When her shoulders slumped moments later, he took it as invitation to come closer; she had let her guard down once more.

"Jim." She said simply, keeping her head down. Her hair had fallen out of its beautiful braid, now frizzing around her shoulders.

He sat behind her slowly, not speaking, and reached out, running a hand down her back once as a show of comfort and support. He took her long hair in his hands and began playing with it gently, eventually dividing it into three main parts and beginning a leisurely braid.

"Hey, Spok." He said softly. Her breathing hitched a little, she wiped her eyes with her sleeve, but she made no move to turn around.

"Apologies for my-" Spok began, but he shushed her before he spoke adamantly.

"Today's the anniversary. It's okay to be sad." He assured. Her back unclenched, and he continued to work his way down her hair, twisting and weaving delicately.

She hiccupped the tiniest bit.

"But Jim, I do not just feel sadness." She whispered out, the confusion and agony in her voice driving daggers through his heart. He waited patiently as she turned to face him in the dim light; tears tracking methodically down her pale face. She was biting her lip to keep it from trembling. "I feel… _anger,_ and _loss,_ and-and _pain_." She started blinking quickly as more tears welled up. "And I do not understand how one can feel so many horrible emotions at once, how a _Vulcan_ can feel so much in one burst, how I can live through these human feelings without breaking." She admitted, a sob escaping her throat.

Jim understood completely; he had lost his mother two years prior, and he knew how his beloved felt. He too had been confused, and panicked, and angry, and if he had been so lost in that time, how could Spok not be twice as agonized as he was? She had little experience dealing with so much emotion at one time; she was just a child when it came to emotional development.

He surged forward and pulled her into a hug, running hands down her back as soothingly as he could, wishing he could take all of her pain away, and keep it from ever getting to her again. He wished keeping her in his embrace would keep her safe forever.

"Oh Spok, my beautiful hybrid princess, it's alright to feel so many things at once. You're grieving your mother's death; you have every right to feel the way you do. You may think your emotions only come from your human side, but I'm telling you, your Vulcan half is grieving just as hard. It's good to cry. I'm here for you, I'll help you through this." She nodded into his shoulder, and he could feel his uniform dampening with her tears.

They stayed like that for almost an hour, her crying weakly into his embrace, him offering continuous support and encouragement.

He woke up the following morning with her sleeping in his arms, tears gone and a look of pure innocent bliss adorning her face.

 _Line Break_

The first time Kirk heard Spok sing, they were on a rescue mission, sent to the planet of Ourebos IV to aid in the recovery of several stolen children, being sold on the muggy planet as slaves and future breeders.

Jim and his- now- bondmate had quickly infiltrated the ragtag base, had managed to get the remaining four children out of the building without any serious harm done, and had _then_ hidden away in a nearby cave while the transporter was fixed- and had immediately been trapped inside as the Ourebian soldiers blocked the entrance with collapsing boulders.

Now they were stuck, in the dark, with a green five-year-old Tarrian girl, a four-year-old Caucasian human boy, a one-year-old Vulcan girl, and a blue six-month-old Anatrian girl. Their only light source was filtered starlight through a single crack in the cave's ceiling, and they were limited to maybe ten feet by six feet of space.

The little boy and the baby Anatrian were both sobbing loudly, and the eldest of the group of children was having a panic attack in Kirk's arms. The two adults had settled down on the dusty floor, able to withstand the short wait until the transporter could beam them up again, but the children were not accepting any form of comfort or coercing from their rescuers.

"Come on, J'aHana, breathe." Jim was soothing, rocking back and forth slowly. The green child was trying hard to obey, but her lungs- located just behind her nose, while her brain was in her second spine- would not cooperate.

When five minutes had passed and none of the remaining kids had calmed any, Spok stood up and touched each of their heads, one at a time.

"Calm, each of you. Help will arrive shortly. You must remain in control of yourselves. Panicking will do us no good." She said curtly, with an authority that made all the youngsters relax a bit. She sat back down again, six-month-old Ariena cradled close to her breast to calm the infant's cries. The children eventually joined her on the ground, watching avidly for some form of entertainment or distraction. Even J'aHana had stopped wheezing enough to pay attention to the Vulcan appointed as their temporary caretaker.

"Now, I want you all to repeat my actions as I instruct you to." She ordered, motioning the green girl to join the others. The child eagerly did as told, stumbling in the dim lighting, while Jim watched the scene with growing interest, wondering what his bondmate would do.

Spok continued to rock the baby slowly, closed her eyes. Said nothing.

Jim was beyond confused until every single child, excluding Ariena, jumped in surprise, swiveling their heads in every direction. Then the woman added Kirk to her mental messaging for his benefit.

 _Speak aloud the languages you can understand._ Came her voice in his head. There were several translations following- each probably the same sentence, repeated in every language Spok knew- and each child took turns listing the tongues they spoke or could at the very least comprehend.

Thankfully one was fluent in English and another was fairly well versed in it, but coincidentally it was the Vulcan girl who couldn't understand it. It was lucky then that Spok could translate.

 _Take two deep breaths in, two deep breaths out._ Came his beloved's voice again, all children following directions and breathing deeply. The atmosphere became more serene, less panicked, each youngster slumping slightly as their muscles unclenched.

They continued calming exercises for ten more minutes.

Kirk had to say, he was impressed. Spok was very good at being a leader, and she was amazingly good with children. Ariena had fallen asleep in her arms.

Then T'Bolea said something aloud, in Vulcan, to which Spok cocked her head inquisitively.

"What, what did she say?" Jim asked curiously. Spok waited a moment before translating.

"She… begs that I sing them a lullaby." She listened as the one-year-old spoke again, then continued, "And says her mother always does it, and it helps her meditate." Her eyebrow rose. She said something to the child in Vulcan.

"Come on, Spok, why not sing them a short little song or two? It would certainly help them stay calm, would it not? It's only logical." He could see the reluctance in her gaze, and her frustration at his using logic against her. Sighing, she nodded, took a deep breath.

Began to sing.

Her voice was terribly melodious, hauntingly beautiful, and easily caressed the captain's ears. She sang the first verse of some Vulcan lullaby in her native tongue for T'Bolea's benefit, then translated it to English as a second verse. The children began to yawn and sway in time to her song.

When Derek scooted his way closer to her side and wrapped his arms around her one free arm, she didn't react. She continued to enchant with her singing.

When J'aHana laid her head on her knee and curled up in front of her, Spok didn't even blink. Started the second verse in Vulcan.

When Ariena clutched her uniform in a tiny, uncoordinated fist and sucked on her other thumb contentedly, Spok seemed to take it in stride, continuing to the translation verse.

And when T'Bolea- the full blood, pure Vulcan child who was supposedly completely emotionless- eventually worked her way over and leaned affectionately against the elder's side, exhaling in nothing less than happiness, Jim could have sworn he saw the faintest smile on the woman's shadowed face as she continued to lull her charges to peaceful sleep. He was amazed that a woman who avoided touch so desperately could be so completely comfortable-looking in a pile of small children.

He smirked to himself.

And she had been worried about 'tainting his offspring'.

She clearly didn't understand just how perfect a mother she could be.

 _Line Break_

The first time McCoy saw the Vulcan smile, it was under the strangest of circumstances.

Well, to _him_ they were strange.

First, he was on the bridge, which was unusual. He generally tried to stay in Sick Bay, but this particular evening he had decided to scold Jim in person for his reckless decision-making as they barely avoided being blown to bits.

Also, he couldn't believe that Jim had actually decided to settle down with one single woman. The man was infamous for his constant one-night stands, and his incapability to stay with one girl for more than a week.

And now here he was proposing to his Vulcan bondmate, in the middle of their hasty warp speed retreat from a battle with some weird turtle aliens, right as she had walked up to give him her analysis of the probability of their escaping this in one piece.

Just like that. She had stood at his side, holding a PADD in one hand and gesturing madly with the other, and he had interrupted her ramblings by standing up, facing her head-on, grabbing her shoulders, and saying, "Marry me." Just like that.

She had been flustered at first, to say the least. She hadn't seen that coming at all, considering they were technically married already in her culture, and also because these conditions for a… 'Romantic' act of emotion were less than ideal.

Then the shocked crew's jaws dropped even lower when she smiled- not quite a full beaming exclamation of happiness, but one hundred times more expressive than any smile she'd ever shown before- and jumped up, wrapping her arms around his neck and saying, "Captain, it would be my honor." Vulcan restraint thrown right out the window.

 _Line Break_

The first time Scotty ever served as a minister was the day after that.

It wasn't a big ceremony, just an official get-together where the two exchanged vows and promises of the purchase of rings once they got a shore leave.

 _Line Break_

When yet another drunken crewmember- damn, they needed to cut off all supplies of alcohol on this ship- punched an unsuspecting James Kirk right out of his swiveling chair, it was the first time Chekov had ever seen the badassery the captain's wife was more than capable of.

The young boy had jumped from his seat in surprise, running forward and assisting Jim to his feet while the rest of the crew that wasn't busy running the navigation sprang up to pound the offending redshirt into oblivion.

They needn't have moved, however, because the situation was already handled.

Spok had jumped up, walked right up to the staggering drunk and whipped him around to face her fury. He had received a swift but powerful kick to the crotch, making him kneel over in pain. Then she had slammed her fist down on the back of his head, kicking him once in the gut when he fell to the floor. All of this within four point six seconds. Screw the nerve pinch; this was much more effective and entertaining.

A stunned security officer had dragged the groaning man to a detention cell while the rest of the crew, even Uhura, stared in awe.

The Vulcan brushed off her hands, blushing bright green but keeping a straight face, and went to help her husband back to his seat, after running a hand over his lip carefully to make sure he hadn't been hurt too severely.

Nobody ever allowed themselves to risk crossing the woman ever again.

 _Line Break_

Nyota knew before Spok herself knew. She had a sort of sense for these things, and had also noticed the slight bloating, the vomiting, and the 'symptoms' in her best friend.

It was maybe four months after the incident on the bridge with the drunken crewmember who was beaten to a pulp. Spok had become more irritable than ever, had eaten more than usual, had had problems keeping her food down in the mornings, and then there had been the symptoms Nyota had learned about in Vulcan Physiology class, such as blue-tinted lips, chipping fingernails, and the sporadic loss of focus in the eyes. She hadn't said anything about it, though, leaving it up to Spok herself to figure it out and break the news to her hubby.

She was thrilled when Spok nervously came to the bridge one day, taking Kirk back to her quarters with her shaking hands around his arm. She knew her best friend had figured it out.

They could all hear Jim's excited laughter from three floors up.

 **Sorry if it's too short, or if you didn't like the format, or anyone was too OOC or any other complaints one may have. I'm new to Star Trek stuff. And this romance stuff. And basically everything this story involves. :/**

 **Okay, so while I REALLY love writing, and I REALLY love writing fanfiction, I regret to inform you all that I may not be updating my stories for up to three months, depending on when we get our school laptops back at the beginning of my junior year this August. Just know that I'm not abandoning any of my current fanfics, I just won't have the means to be able to update over the summer.**

 **I DO have a home computer (so I may get up maybe a chapter or two if I ever find the time, no promises), but my father uses it for work a lot, and I'll also be busy getting my wisdom teeth removed, taking driver's ed, visiting my hometown, helping assemble a treehouse, and lots of other stuff.**

 **Thank you for your understanding, and I hope this doesn't upset anybody too much. (Well, I** _ **sort of**_ **hope it upsets you- because that means you really like my writing ;)- just not to the point of it affecting your mood too intensely.)**

 **Have a great summer, Trekkies!**

 **God bless!**

 **-Violet**


	3. Chapter 3

**And here is the final chapter of this short story! I believe this chapter is longer than its predecessors, but still…**

 **That you all for sticking with me this far, hope this chapter meets your expectations!**

 **Warning: mentions of sexual stuff**

The first time Jim realized something was wrong was when his wife didn't turn up at their temporary home on New Vulcan.

They would be staying there for a few weeks so she could visit with her father to tell him what exactly was happening soon. She was having a baby, one-quarter Vulcan and three-quarters human.

He had been reading through several reports and private messages from his crew.

 _Dammit, Jim, why are you being so secretive?_ –L McCoy. He smirked and began to type.

 _Because I have a secret._ –J Kirk. He hit 'send' and read through his other messages.

 _Captain, are you okay? Is Mrs. Spok okay?_ – P Chekov. Jim quickly typed out his reply.

 _Yes, kid, we're both doing well. Wonderfully, even. Don't worry._ –J Kirk.

Having had enough of the constant barrage of questions from concerned crewmembers and an excited Uhura, he turned off his communicator and stood to stretch his aching legs. A humid breeze caressed his face.

When he checked the time, his heart dropped. He had been so caught up in messaging, he hadn't noticed that Spok was over two hours late! She should have been home long before the sun set, and it was currently dipping under the horizon.

"Spok?" He called out, running to the door and whipping it open.

The sight that awaited him, immediately outside of his door, made his blood turn icy in his veins.

There were speckles of green blood on the front walkway. That was what caught his gaze first. Then he noticed the scuffmarks that dragged down the rocky trail leading from the house, made by dragging boots. The pattern resembled that made by Spok's heels.

Those hadn't been there that morning, when Jim was hugging his beloved goodbye as she left for her father's.

And then he found Spok's communicator, discarded and crushed. She never left without it, and never treated anything she owned with such disregard. He could tell, from the feeling in his gut, that she was in trouble.

If only he hadn't closed the door! He would have seen!

It appeared she had been kidnapped, and from her own front steps.

 _Line Break_

The first time Jim saw genuine emotion from Sarek, he had sped over to the man's humble home, panting heavily and begging for help.

"She's- she's gone, Sarek! They took her!" He exclaimed, shaking the ambassador's shoulders. "There… there are scuff marks all over our walkway, and they're from something being dragged, and she's late coming home, and I think she's been drugged!" Now he could hardly breathe, his airway seeming to close up from panic. "Oh, oh Lord… what if she's hurt? What if they hurt the baby? They don't know she's pregnant, nobody does, they could give her too many sedatives and kill it!" Sarek's eyes widened at this, eyebrows reaching his hairline.

"You've impregnated my daughter?" He asked, surprise almost evident in his voice. Jim sighed.

"Yeah, right, forgot. She was on her way here to tell you when she was taken. I know this is a shock, Sarek, but right now there are more pressing matters. She's missing! She or the baby could be injured, even killed! Please help me!" The Vulcan nodded firmly, determination similar to his daughter's settling on his face.

"You're correct. Have you informed your crew? Can they offer their aid?" Jim blanched, pulling out his comm. He had totally forgotten! Where was his brain today?

"Kirk to _Enterprise._ Urgent." He barked. The device hissed with interference for a few seconds before a female voice met his ears.

"Yes, Captain? Uhura here." He sagged in relief.

"Uhura! Quick, tell Sulu to set course for New Vulcan! Spok has been kidnapped, and I need all the help I can get to find her! Get here as fast as you possibly can, no delays!" Without waiting for an answer, he hung up.

 _Line Break_

The first time Kirk thought of his precious ship as slow was when it took a total of two days for the frantic crew to reach his location.

McCoy, Uhura, Sulu and Scotty beamed down to a blubbering Captain Jim Kirk, who was inconsolable. During the time it took them to get there, Sarek had gathered a rather large group of searchers to look high and low for his missing daughter. They had covered the entire main city with startling Vulcan efficiency, not finding a single trace of the hybrid woman.

"Dammit, Jim. Pull yourself together! You're a captain, not an ant! You have the power to do something, so stop your sobbing and _do_ it!" McCoy was quick to snap, effectively pulling the blonde from his upset. Jim dried his face and nodded.

"Sorry, McCoy. You're right. Let's get to work. Long-range scanners. Go!" He commanded.

They followed his directions without fault or question.

Their combined efforts brought no results.

 _Line Break_

"Jim, it's alright, we'll find her. I swear we will." Nyota comforted the distraught captain. He was past tears and screaming, now just staring blankly at the wall, head in his hands. Tremors ran through his body. His brilliant blue eyes lost their sparkle at the absence of his bond mate, his best friend, his wife.

"Uhura, it's been three months. She… she could be…" He trailed off, choking. "And the baby… what could have happened to the baby in this much time?" There was such a large lump in his throat, preventing him from swallowing and fogging up his vision.

McCoy, the only other crewmember left on-planet as the rest of the crew begrudgingly had to complete an assigned mission, startled in his seat.

"Wait. Goddammit, Jim, you knocked up the hobgoblin and felt no need to inform _me_ , the CMO? She needs prenatal care!" Jim was so depressed, he let the crass comments slide and took the exclamation for what it really was: concern and newfound fear for their friend's safety.

"I… we… We planned on announcing it after we returned from shore leave, but then she… and I… I just couldn't talk about it…" Tears flew down his cheeks. McCoy softened slightly, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Jim, I'm happy for you, in an ironic kind of way, since there's next to nothing to actually be happy about right now. Kidnapping aside, I'm proud of you for taking this kind of responsibility, and for settling down. You're lucky. And we will find them both, healthy and safe, and you'll be a big happy family that will be the biggest pains in my ass. But right now, we can't think of anything besides rescuing Spok. I'm very concerned about her health." He said. Jim looked up at him, worry igniting in his blue orbs.

"W-why? _Why_?" He demanded. The CMO sighed, scrubbing a hand down his grizzled face.

"Well, I'm not an expert on Vulcan anatomy, I do know that Vulcans have a shorter gestation period than humans do. On Vulcan, conditions are far from ideal, with scarce water, unrelenting exposure to the heat and direct sunlight, and much less access to necessary vitamins and minerals. With things like those factoring in, it's logical for gestation to be as short as possible without harming the baby. Too long carrying it, and the mother could suffer from malnutrition and dehydration, the baby taking most of her water and vitamin intake. If she dies, the baby dies shortly after, and so- the Vulcans being such an ancient race- it makes sense that they would evolve to limit the time in the womb. Also, Vulcan babies are smaller, because no matter how they evolve to be more efficient, it still takes _time_ to fully develop a humanoid fetus." He explained as best he could, Jim and Uhura nodding along in agreement; it made sense.

"The problem is, Spok's- majorly Vulcan- body most likely abides by this law of nature as well. She's carrying a baby, however, that's going to be majorly human. Human babies- evolved to grow at a fixed rate to match human gestation periods- are naturally bigger than Vulcan babies when they're born. Spok's body is made to carry a baby for approximately six or seven months and deliver a three-to-four-pound infant. At that point, however, a human baby would be six pounds on average, much larger than what a Vulcan body is made to birth. In this case, it's Spok's body versus the baby's growth rate. Since they don't correspond in the slightest, that increases the risk of birth complications. The baby could get stuck, or have its bones broken, or get crushed in the birth canal if there is not medical assistance present. That's why I'm worried. Not only is the baby at risk, though. Spok could bleed out quite easily, and a birth like that would be excruciating. That's why we need to hurry the hell up and find her, before something irreparable happens." Kirk had gone completely pale, eyes wide as saucers. There was fear in his eyes, suffocating to witness. Things had just gotten much more complicated.

"Oh no…" He whispered, making the CMO narrow his eyes.

"What?" He inquired, dreading the answer.

"She's… she's five months along right now." He informed, hands shaking.

McCoy gulped; they didn't have much time.

 _Line Break_

They walked purposefully down the torch lit hallway, cloaks swishing behind them. Jim was shaking in anticipation, nerves on edge. He could feel it; they were getting closer and closer to his beloved.

Beside him, McCoy shot out an elbow and effectively stopped Jim's shivering.

"You'll give us away. Remember, we belong here, we are here because of the _cause_." Kirk nodded.

Two days prior, they had received word that an infamous cult was behaving especially suspiciously. Upon hearing this, Kirk's mind had lit up like a Christmas tree, and something that felt similar to Spok had nudged him approvingly, as if she were trying to tell him _yes, I'm there_.

And so they now found themselves deep in the caverns of New Vulcan, searching out the commons to have an audience with the cult's leader, a Vulcan by the name of Tor.

They finally emerged into a large room lit by thousands of candles, a grand throne against the far wall. A man was lazily laying in it sideways, twirling his long red hair around a spindly finger. He perked up when he saw them, upswept eyebrows lifting subtly.

"Oh, newcomers! I like you guys already!" Hearing such informal speech from a Vulcan was disconcerting. He then smiled widely at them, making them even more uncomfortable. The smile only really looked good on a Vulcan if that Vulcan was Spok. "Do you wish to join our ranks? Fun is guaranteed!" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

This particular unnamed cult was focused on recruiting Vulcans who went against their own society, behaving like humans and trying to bring an end to the culture. While their ideology was rather appealing, their extremist and illegal ways were not.

McCoy spoke, Jim not trusting himself to say anything for fear of blowing their cover.

"Yes, we're interested. Are humans even allowed?" He asked curiously. The redhead- Tor- nodded enthusiastically.

"Oh, yes! There are no humans on this godforsaken planet, so we would love to be mentored in your ways directly! Plus, you guys seem radical!" He exclaimed childishly. Jim put on a fake smile.

"Great! We're in!" McCoy stated. Tor's smile grew, and he ran to them, holding out two palms.

"Awesome! High-five!" He yelled. They confusedly obliged. "Good, now you are official members." And with that, the hyperactive Vulcan was sprawled over his throne once more. "Now go find something to do."

The two humans exchanged looks. "Um, what exactly _is_ there to do?" The redhead thought for a moment.

"You really _are_ new, aren't you? Alright, there's a 24/7 cafeteria, a gaming room, a zoo, an 'adult time' room- if you know what I mean, and hundreds of vacant bedrooms. Right now you'll find your brethren watching Nou-Ball on the TV in that room down the hall. Enjoy, do whatever you like." He dismissed them with a lazy flick of his hand.

Rolling their eyes, the two went down the indicated hallway, finding a large spherical room with thousands of rooms branching off of it. In the center was a humongous TV set, ten couches surrounding it from every angle, completely covered in shouting and cheering Vulcans of all shapes, sizes, and colors imaginable. None gave them so much as a passing glance as they continued past the large TV and down a hallway a few people had entered.

They followed the nearest person, a scantily clad female carrying a serving tray, from a safe distance, seeing where she could lead them.

They found themselves in a small room cut very poorly from the rock, sharp edges jutting out everywhere. The only light source was from three torches hanging in various places on the wall.

The room was full of girls, all of them Vulcan. All were dressed with lots of skin showing and wore similar emotionless looks on their faces.

A girl with black hair and dark skin stepped forward, offering a bow.

When she leaned over, one could see the chain hanging from around her neck.

"What might you be needing, sirs?" She asked politely, sounding exactly like a Vulcan generally should.

"Um, we don't really need anything. Just looking for someone." The girl paused.

"Are you a member?" She asked cautiously. McCoy smiled charmingly and nodded.

"Yup, just joined. Are you?" She seemed taken aback, as did her friends.

"Me?" Her hand found its way to her multiple piercings, fidgeting nervously. Otherwise, she remained monotone. "No. I am merely a humble servant." She curtsied again. "These are the servants' quarters. My sisters and I are at your service." The other girls bowed in unison, some having to place arms over their shirts to keep their breasts from spilling out of the miniscule coverings.

The dark haired girl proceeded to remove her veil-thin shawl, showing off her two-piece outfit with various belts and chains hanging off of her curvy form. Her hair was held in a high braid that was bedecked with cheap gold jewelry.

Jim and McCoy were both a little confused, uncomfortable with the girls being so submissive and suggestive.

"Hey, uh- what's your name?" Jim asked. The girl smiled charmingly at him, showing perfect teeth.

"I am T'Goro." Another curtsy.

"Yes, T'Goro, could you please do something for me?" He asked sweetly. She blinked slowly, seductively.

"Anything you may desire."

"Great! Drop the 'Emotionless Vulcan' act. I can tell you're just like the others out there, aren't you? I want you to be yourself. Oh- and stop acting like you're going to mount me at any given second. Very unnerving." She blinked again, this time in surprise, pulling back and wrapping the shawl around her shoulders again.

"Oh. A-alright then. Anything else I can do for you?" She asked, significantly less formal than before, and much less suggestive. She crossed her arms securely over her chest.

"Yes. You can give us information about this place. Why are you all acting as slaves?"

T'Goro seemed to shiver, looking to several of the other girls before whispering, "They won't let us join otherwise. They need us to pretend to be regular Vulcans and be slaves to signify our power over the average drones. After two years, we'll be allowed entrance into the ranks."

"Wait, so you're doing this of your own free will?" McCoy asked, shocked. "You're giving your bodies to strangers and acting like lesser people willingly? Just to join a stupid cult?" The girl's eyes darkened, and she glared at him.

"We're not whores, _kuhku._ We're just very… open-minded. Determined." She corrected him. He held his hands up in surrender.

A girl resting on a carved-out shelf looked away from them, bleached hair falling in her face. "Unlike Sora." She mumbled hatefully. Another girl, one who was washing dirty dishes in a nearby sink, almost dropped a plate. She laughed loudly.

"Ha! True; that girl is a spineless bitch." She agreed, resuming her chore.

This caught the men's attention.

"Excuse me, who's spineless?" Kirk asked. T'Goro snorted.

"Just Tor's _favorite_ , that's all. Honestly, I don't get what he likes so much about her. She doesn't serve anyone but him, and he dresses her in purple, the highest honor a servant can get. Seriously, she doesn't even have sex with him, doesn't even offer herself, yet he dotes on her constantly."

Another servant girl piped up, "I heard he's saving her until he can take her with a clean conscience. No one else is allowed to even _touch_ her until he's had his way with her." The other girls giggled, fully immersed in gossip.

"Why can't he… you know…?" McCoy inquired. A girl the others had called T'Nowar answered.

"Well, my theory is that, being the leader, he has to keep his reputation among his followers. If he were to have sex with her, there would be an uproar since it's considered very immoral to take a pregnant woman, regular Vulcan or not." Jim's heart dropped.

"She-she's _pregnant_?" He asked shakily. McCoy subtly placed and hand on his shoulder in silent support and warning. The slave girl paid no heed to his sudden change in attitude.

"Yep! And I heard it's not even _his_. Why waste his time waiting on a cheating whore who's just getting fatter and more resistant?" Her long brown pigtails bobbed with her nervous laughter.

Jim and McCoy had already left.

 _Line Break_

"Tor! Who is this 'Sora'?" Jim barked as he marched into the commons once more, Tor being the only occupant as before. The redhead shot up in his throne, eying them warily.

"Why do you want to know? Where'd you hear that from?" He droned, clearly hiding something. Jim's eye twitched.

"A little birdie. I want to know because she's m-" McCoy rushed forward and placed a hand over his friend's mouth, chuckling nervously.

"-because she's _magnificent_ , or so we've heard. We just want to see her, so we know what truly beautiful slave girls look like." He interrupted, smiling widely, sweat dripping from his temple.

Tor preened, puffing out his chest and offering a sly smile.

"Well… she _is_ a beauty, I must admit. The most beautiful I've ever seen, actually. Very fine specimen. Very much worth waiting for." He swallowed predatorily, shaking slightly in excitement. Jim growled. "I guess I can show her to you… but know that she's mine and _mine alone_. You can call dibs after I've had my way with her, but also know there's a very long line of dudes already." As both humans fumed silently, Tor placed his fingers in his mouth and whistled.

For several agonizing moments, nothing happened.

Then, a rock slid to the side behind Tor's throne, revealing a hidden doorway.

A girl emerged, blinking from the change in lighting, before going over to perch herself precariously on Tor's armrest. The redhead placed a possessive arm around her waist, pulling her closer.

Jim's heart jumped to his throat, his vocal cords locking up in shock.

It was Spok.

She was paler than usual, face covered in heavy makeup; lips blood red, big brown eyes framed with thick eyelashes and eyeshadow whose color complimented the chocolate shade of her intelligent orbs. Her dark hair was intricately braided into a layered updo, with real gold jewelry resting atop her head.

Her clothing was shockingly exposing, a royal purple top barely reaching the middle of her ribcage with tassels hanging from the bottom, tiny purple shorts that were short enough to be panties, and a see-through purple sash tied around her waist. Her nails were painted light purple and there were matching bands around her knees- purple, of course. There was a thick collar on her slim neck, an impressive chain hanging from it.

On her exposed skin were dozens of tattoos. One was a sun around her bellybutton, another a swirling pattern on her shoulder. Jim had seen them before, but McCoy was all-out staring at the blue ink covering her belly, shoulders and arms.

But most noticeable of all, her belly was stretched to almost four times its normal size.

"Ah, Sora, darling. Say hello to our newest members!" Tor said with a false friendly tone. He only wished to show her off to make the two men jealous.

"Greetings." She said without emotion, looking at her two close friends without recognition, her eyes half-lidded, face slack. Jim's heart nearly broke in two at the lack of love in her eyes as she assessed him.

"Sora here was just doing the laundry, weren't you, baby?" The redhead asked patronizingly, rubbing a hand over her belly. She did react to this, wincing and delicately removing the offending appendage from her skin. The Vulcan frowned at her before fake laughing and replacing his hand on her abdomen. She winced again, but he flicked his thumb, she gasped, then she stopped trying to remove his hand. He smiled triumphantly.

Jim was so angry that by now he could have melted an iceberg with his glare.

"Hey, asshole! Get your filthy hands away from my _wife,_ right now!" He yelled ferociously, launching forward.

Tor choked, spitting out, "Sora, defend your master!" and cowering into his chair.

Spok did as told with a blank face, jumping down from the throne awkwardly and pulling some throwing knives from a secret pocket in her sash.

Jim came to a halt, face reddening in sorrow and anger. What had this pervert done to his wife?

"Spok, honey, it's me, it's Jim." He soothed breathlessly, McCoy coming up behind him and pulling his tricorder out.

"Jim, look at this." The CMO said in surprise, pointing to the readings. "The pain levels are off the charts!" Then, just as soon as it spiked, it dropped back to normal.

Jim was confused and afraid for his beloved. What was causing her so much pain?

"Honey, please, remember me! What's wrong? Is he blackmailing you? Why won't you tell me?" He implored of the stoic woman. She didn't reply, still in a defensive position.

"Jim, it happened again!" McCoy cried, frantic. These pain levels were higher than the last! "Oh dear God… Jim, she's having contractions." He said. Jim, alarmed, returned his gaze to his wife, who hadn't moved. She certainly didn't _look_ like a woman in labor pains.

"A-are you saying the baby's _coming_?" He screeched. His friend simply nodded.

"Oh, Sora, my darling, this is wonderful! Soon I can have you!" Tor said sadistically.

Spok remained unresponsive, completely focused on her task of protecting the leader.

"Hang on, scans are picking up- ah! I've got it!" McCoy cried in triumph. Without warning he rushed forward, ducking Spok's initial swipe and grabbing her skinny wrist firmly, apologizing before wrenching her arm until she dropped the blade with a hiss of frustration. (He would have just taken it from her hand, but he knew that she was likely twice as strong as he was.) He grabbed up the small knife and expertly wielded it, bringing it down on the nape of her neck as she struggled.

"What the hell are you doing?" Jim screamed as the blade made contact with her skin.

Spok collapsed to the ground limply, an agonized scream escaping her lips. Then all was silent.

"This was on her neck." McCoy said simply, producing a small, bloodied device. "It was attached to her skin. It's why she was so submissive and why she didn't recognize us. Probably also why she wasn't showing pain." He was cut off as the girl at his feet let out another scream; the sound foreign to both humans as they'd never heard Spok cry out like this before. "Although now she's able to." He finished, dropping to her side while discarding the small machine. Kirk was at his wife's side in an instant, cradling her head in his lap as the CMO checked her over.

"B-but… Sora! My love! I've waited so long, you cannot be taken from me now, not when we're so close!" Tor stuttered, staggering to them. Jim sizzled, but refused to leave his beloved. She was gasping and looking around dazedly, appearing as if she was seizing. Her hand found his shirt and gripped it very tightly. There was a pleading look in her eyes.

McCoy stood. "Beam us up, Scotty. _Now_." He commanded into the small device on his wrist. Within seconds, the three were encased in swirling light.

"No! SORA!" Tor exclaimed.

McCoy punched him right in the nose.

Then they were gone, leaving a bloodied pervert mourning the loss of his prized possession.

 _Line Break_

Uhura winced as she peered through the glass of the Med Bay's windows. Finally, after months of searching, they had found Spok, her best friend. And she was a mess, and currently fighting a losing battle to maintain control of her raging emotions. Tears escaped her eyes and she did lots of gasping and quiet moaning, sometimes even growling deep in her throat or singing to herself. Her right hand was clamped tightly on Jim's black undershirt, her left wiping sweat from her damp brow.

Then McCoy closed the curtains, trying to salvage what little was left of their friend's dignity.

 _Line Break_

"Oh Spok, Princess, you're alright." Jim soothed, running a loving hand over her heated face.

They were now safely aboard the _Enterprise_ , tucked away in a private room at the back of the Sick Bay. Spok was unfortunately still wearing the purple top from earlier, but the jewelry, makeup, sash and bottoms had been removed. Now she had only a sheet covering her bottom half.

She panted a lot, whimpers of distress beginning to break through her shields. As more time passed, she began to deteriorate at a faster rate. Soon she was full-out sobbing, but biting her lip and trying very hard not to.

"J-Ji-im." She gasped during an especially bad contraction. It was the first word she had spoken in over an hour. Her husband, currently the room's only other occupant, took her offered hand and kissed her knuckles. "Hur-hurts." She whined. At her confession, he felt even worse. His poor, poor bondmate. He could tell she was suffering more than anyone as sweet as her had the right to.

He could also tell that showing this weakness even to McCoy, when he was in the room, was very stressful and embarrassing to Spok.

"Hey, look at me, beautiful." He said, catching her attention. She fixed her brown eyes on him. He hoped their baby had her eyes. They were so goddamn gorgeous.

"Wh-wha?" She asked. The contraction ended, leaving her a twitchy mess.

"Give me some of your pain." He stated simply. She blinked, scrunching her upswept eyebrows in confusion. "You're going to be in a world of pain, trust me. This baby is as big as a human baby, which is too big for a Vulcan to deliver normally. Ask McCoy. Painful. Just do it, please. It's terrible seeing you like this. I can take it, I promise." He assured. She looked dubious, but then another contraction hit her, and she curled up in response, choking out a cry through grit teeth.

When it was past, she reach out a shaky hand and placed her warm fingers on his face, reaching out for his mind.

He offered it easily, happily accepting the transmission of some of her pain. He was instantly buckling and leaning heavily against the bed's railing, gasping like a fish as waves of excruciating pain swept over him relentlessly. His face turned red, sweat poured down his skin. He cried out.

Spok, wincing, made a very difficult decision and severed the mental link, ending his pain abruptly.

"I cannot do it, Jim. I can't watch you suffer on my account." She elaborated, looking close to tears as full pain returned to her. Her lower lip was quivering.

Panting, Jim lowered his head in defeat.

"Alright, got everything we'll need." McCoy said as he re-entered the sterilized room, arms full of various medical equipment. "Unfortunately, we can't do a C-section. Unless it's a life-or-death moment, all surgeries have been banned from starships not on the ground." He apologized, listening to the baby's heartbeat. He gave them a smile of reassurance. "Sounds very healthy. Don't suppose you ever found out the gender?" Spok, muscles clenched as she powered through another contraction, replied, to Jim's surprise.

"Female." Then the contraction was gone again, and she relaxed a little bit.

"Wait, when did you find out?" Jim asked, shocked.

"I knew… For a while… Telepath, remember?" She asked with the tiniest smile ever. "She's very confused… right now… and frightened…" Her tiny smile grew the ittiest bit. "She likes… the sound of your… voice." Jim couldn't help the large grin that spread over his face.

Then Spok yelled softly, eyes watering as the pain increased dramatically. She clenched her eyes shut and arched her back.

"Spok, honey, is there anything I can do?" Jim asked helplessly.

She opened her eyes and looked directly at him.

"Hold me. Please." She whispered. Eyes widening, he immediately obliged her pitiful request. Without a second thought, and to McCoy's silent annoyance, he gently scooted her over and laid down on the large bed next to her, pulling her small frame into his arms. She hid her face in his chest, both laying on their sides and facing each other. He ran his fingers through her hair, rubbing the tips of her pointed ears.

He felt her tense up again and hugged her tighter, hiding her teary face from view and allowing her to retain some of her dignity. She cried, muffled, into his shirt.

After an hour of this, McCoy came in and checked how things were getting along, declaring that it was finally time for her to start pushing.

Under the doctor's direction, Spok bent her leg and lifted it to rest on her husband's hip, and Jim placed his hand under her knee to keep it in place.

Spok was almost screaming into his chest now, fingernails digging into the cloth of his undershirt. He held her close with his free arm and offered streams of encouraging words.

He could feel it each time she pushed. Her whole body would tense up, her leg would quiver with the effort, and she would release a strangled cry with fresh tears emerging from her bloodshot eyes.

However, after ten minutes of the same thing, something changed. Her crying turned to ragged screaming and her body was tenser than ever before. She pressed her sweaty forehead into his chest and clenched her eyes shut.

"Hold up a minute, Spok. You're doing great, but it's best to take a break since such a large baby easily strains your body. We have to play it carefully to get this little lady out without any issues." Spok instantly collapsed into Jim, humming and panting and moaning in exertion. She just sounded so _tired_.

"Hear that? You're doing great. She's almost here. Just a little bit longer, baby, I promise." He encouraged, pressing a kiss to her nose. There was a tiny smile at that.

Then she started pushing again. McCoy was yelling for her to stop, take it easy, but she ignored that and listened to her body, her _instincts_ , which were telling her to push, and to push _now._ She put all of her strength into one big, solid push, and with it came the feeling of a slight pressure being relieved.

"Wow, um, okay… There's her head, Spok. You really… wow, I don't think I've seen someone push out a baby's head from that far in the birth canal. You just really popped that little sucker out, didn't ya?" He was rambling, she could tell, so she just ignored him and, against his advice, pushed again, and again, and again. Her body was screaming at her to go as hard as she possibly could, and although lethargy was gripping her tightly, she took a deep breath and pushed with all of her might, this push longer than the rest. She screamed.

And just like that, the pressure was completely gone, the pain lowering to tolerable levels once more.

"Holy-! Spok, she's- she's here! Nice goin'! And not a scratch on her!" McCoy said happily, taking the crying newborn into his arms and wrapping her in a clean towel. Moments later, the sweet sound of a baby's cries split the air.

"Spok, you did it! She's here! It's done!" Jim cried, hugging the trembling woman to himself with great care, kissing her head many times. She simply sagged against him, barely conscious. "Do you hear that, Spok? She's fine!" She didn't respond, not moving until her daughter started crying. When she heard that noise, though, she brightened, exhaustion expelled for the moment in favor of curiosity and excitement. She sat up with her husband's help, and was handed the bundle of Vulcan-human hybrid.

She was so beautiful. The baby was six pounds, had a little button nose, cupid's bow lips, normal, non-arched eyebrows and a head of thick black hair. Her ears held the teensiest hint of a point.

The couple looked down on their child in awe. They had made her. She was _theirs_.

"Amanda." Kirk said simply. Spok looked up at him with watering eyes, then looked back down at her daughter.

"Amanda." She agreed.

And that was the first time McCoy had ever seen a Vulcan- no, a _person_ \- so extraordinarily happy.

 **I know, bad place to end the story. Sorry, it was the best I could do.**

 **Thank you all so much for sticking with this story and for your patience over the summer. I love each and every one of you!**

 **Also, wanna see my picture of what Spok looked like when they found her with the cult? Check it out on DeviantArt! My username is 'thisvioletofmine' and the picture is titled 'Spok-Servitude'. It was made in a computer game, so I couldn't include her ears or eyebrows or even the pregnant belly, but it's more of a look at the outfit if you wanted a visual. I know** _ **I**_ **sometimes do when there's a character being described.**

 **Did you enjoy the story? I hope you did! Please leave a review!**

 **Also, check out my other stories!**

 **Goodnight, my lovelies, and I hope to see you all again with my next stories!**

 **-Violet**


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